A Mission in a Hidden City
by leavesofmirkwood
Summary: Spider-Man finally goes on his first mission with the Avengers to the secret country of Wakanda. Will they save the hidden city? And who is really behind the attack? A sequel to 'An Important Wait.' AU-ish.
1. Chapter 1

Hawkeye watched from his perch in the air vent as hundreds of people in uniform walked around busily beneath him. Located at one end of the warehouse was a large collect of artillery and the other hosted a plethora of barrels full of lethal-looking contents. There was no way that any of this was a good sign. A large, familiar insignia was displayed on the wall opposite from his perch. A _very_ not good sign. He glanced back at the Black Widow, who was behind him in the vent. She raised her eyebrow in question and he shook his head slightly.

They both backed up up into the air vents where they could sit in relative comfort. Hawkeye touched the radio in his ear. "Cap? This is Hawkeye."

A pause.

"_Yes, Hawkeye?"_

"This base definitely isn't abandoned; and you're not gonna like what we found."

* * *

_Before_

Tony looked up from his cards as Hawkeye walked into the room.

"How'd the mission go, Barton?" Tony called out, Clint sighing as he collapsed on the couch.

"Can't talk about it, Stark." Clint called back exasperatedly, turning on the television.

"Where's Natasha? She left when you did." He shifted his cards around and then added the remaining stack of his chips to the pile in the center of the table, smirking at Steve, "All in."

"Can't talk about that either."

Tony turned in his chair to face Clint, and Steve shook his head at their almost ritual of a conversation.

"How come you and Natasha get to go on all the missions? I think that I should be sent on some too, I am a valuable member of this team."

Clint held up a finger, answering Tony without looking at him.

"One, Tasha and I are S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, missions _kinda_ go with the job. And two-" he held up a second finger, "I wouldn't send you on a solo mission to retrieve my dead cat."

Tony scoffed at this, turning back to the poker game; where Steve had laid out a full house.

Tony threw his cards on the table as Steve pulled all of the chips towards himself. "Ah, come on, Cap! Since when are you so good at poker?"

Steve shrugged, "Since about eighty years ago, I guess."

Clint laughed at this, whereas Tony just stood from the table in the kitchen that they had been playing at and went to sit on a sofa chair across from the couch in the living room.

Clint shook his head, still chuckling to himself, "I told you Stark, never play poker against the Captain."

"Well you had to have known that would have only made me want to play against him more, right?"

Hawkeye raised an eyebrow, looking completely serious for a second, before grinning. "Yeah, I did."

Tony scoffed at this, while the Captain came and sat down on the couch, having cleaned up the card game.

Clint started flipping through the channels as Tony messed around with his phone.

He looked up suddenly.

"So I've been thinking, wouldn't it be cool if all the Avengers moved into the Stark Tower? I mean, most of you guys spend all your time here anyway... Except for Web-Head, who I haven't gotten around to inviting over, and Thor, who spends half his time in Asgard doing who knows what. What the heck does he do up there anyway?"

Steve shrugged. "He is the _prince_ of Asgard. I'm sure that comes with _some_ form of responsibility."

Tony nodded, "Very true."

Hawkeye interrupted, eyes still focused on the television. "Correct me if I'm wrong but, isn't that Spider-Man?"

Tony and Steve both peered over at the television, a live news broadcast being shown. The reporter stood among a crowd of people being held back by the police. In the background was the flashing of the sun off of what appeared to be four metal tentacles with claws on the end viciously attacking something that was quickly weaving in between them. Closer inspection revealed that the weaving object was in fact a red and blue clad person; none other than Spider-Man.

Even as they watched, one of the tentacles managed to slip past his defenses and take a stab at him, causing Spider-Man to fall to the ground. Though he did get back up, he began moving noticeably slower than before.

Tony slowly looked over at the Captain and Hawkeye, who were both looking over at him. They all three nodded at once in agreement and stood, getting ready for action. Clint grabbed his bow from where he had placed it on the coffee table, and easily swung his quiver over his shoulders. The Captain grabbed his shield from the kitchen and headed for the elevator where Clint stood waiting to go down.

"JARVIS, have a suit for me on the roof when I get there."

"_Yes, sir."_

"Meet you there, Tony." Tony gave a slight salute to the Captain as the elevator doors closed.

Tony then got into the second elevator, riding it to the top floor and landing pad.

"Tell Bruce that we all went out and will be back later."

"_Yes, sir."_

"Oh, and tell him to clear off one of the lab tables. We might need it."

"_Shall I give him a reason, sir? That message is rather cryptic."_

Tony thought for a moment.

"Nope."

The elevator doors opened and Tony stepped out as the AI replied, _"Very good, sir."_

Tony stepped in to the set of Iron Man boots on the dock and the arming process began automatically; completing in 7 seconds. The moment it was finished, he fired his repulsors and blasted into the sky.

* * *

For being a part of _Earth's Mightiest Heroes_, he hadn't really seemed to do much, Peter thought dryly. No cryptic missions, fate of humanity on the line, or even a press conference. Mostly, all that he had done with his job was research in the SHIELD labs, sometimes working on stuff so top secret he didn't even have the clearance to know _what_ he was researching, and occasionally train with the Avengers. It all seemed really rather informal, though he knew that it was anything but. They were just waiting for the opportune moment. Currently he still had time for his customary brand of crime fighting, which was nice, but he'd been hoping that-

His thoughts were interrupted by the fact that one of Doctor Octopus' mechanical arms had broken free of the webbing he had trapped it in and was now hurtling straight towards him. Peter glanced at the bomb he had been trying to disable. It had about thirty seconds before it blew up, releasing some sort of evil havoc; though he didn't really know for sure, because he had sort of tuned out the Doc's monologue about it. Really, once you've heard one, you've heard them all.

He jumped up and over, landing on a nearby wall and narrowly missing the knife-like claw that had embedded itself where his head had been but a few moments before.

He held on to the wall with one hand, the other clutching his bleeding side. So far, the blood loss hadn't gotten to him, but he could tell that he would definitely be hurting once this adrenaline rush wore off.

Doctor Octopus cackled from where he was strung upside down in webbing, his four extraneous appendages breaking their bonds one by one.

"Face it, Spider-Man! You're done for! Already you grow weak, but _I_ am as strong as ever-"

A familiar looking red, white, and blue shield struck Octavian in the head, immediately rendering him and his metal arms unconscious. Spider-Man looked over and saw Captain America catching the shield out of mid-air, giving him a nod.

Over where the bomb was attached, Hawkeye was quickly and efficiently pulling out and cutting wires. The count down, now on 5, disappeared.

"Hey guys! Thanks for coming to the party! I hope...you like...the...decorations..." His head started spinning and Peter belatedly realized that perhaps he had lost more blood than he originally supposed.

He lost his grip on the wall and started falling into unconsciousness, dimly hearing an electronic voice speak as if from a distance.

"Whoa there, Web-head!"

Then everything went black.

* * *

The elevator dinged as it reached the 56th floor and Iron Man stepped through, carrying an unconscious Spider-Man, followed by Hawkeye. Captain America had stayed behind to handle the press; one of the 'perks' of being the leader.

Tony heard Bruce talking before he saw him.

"Alright, Tony. I cleared a table like you asked me. But what I want to know is why you couldn't just-"

Bruce walked into view and stopped mid-sentence.

"Well I need _somewhere_ to put your new patient, Doctor." Tony said brightly.

Bruce shook his head. "I know you guys think that because I'm a doctor, you can bring all your problems to me. But I'm not _that_ kind of doctor."

Tony stared innocently.

Bruce sighed. "Fine, go set him on the table. I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you, Doctor." Tony quickly made his way to the lab, careful not to jostle Spider-Man and cause him to further injure himself, with Bruce following close behind.

* * *

Peter woke up with a slight headache and ringing in his ears. He stared at the white ceiling and then sighed, rubbing his face with his hands, wondering if he could get a few more minutes of sleep. But sleep disappeared from his mind when he realized that he wasn't at home; the bed he was laying on was _way_ too comfortable to be his bed. Upon realizing this, he tried to sit up quickly, but was stopped by a searing pain on his side and along his ribs. He glanced down. His chest was neatly wrapped in bandages and felt as though there were some stitches there as well.

Suddenly, his fight with Doctor Octopus came rushing back to him, along with his injury and the assist by the Avengers. Or, well, some of them.

He got up slowly this time, gingerly holding his side.

He looked around the room.

The only light in the room came from the giant bayside window overlooking New York from what looked about fifty stories. It seemed to be early in the evening; so hopefully that meant he'd only been out for a few hours, and not 24+. On the opposite wall was a plasma screen television, under which was an antique looking dresser. The door to the room was wooden and normal looking, except it had a high tech keypad and scanner to the side of it. The room had an overall smell of fresh and innovative; like the interior of a new car, with a slight hint of... Coffee, maybe?

All of this told him that he wasn't in a hospital, to his immense relief. Him, without a mask, in a building full of curious personal would not be good for the health of his secret identity. But that still left him with a question.

"Where the heck am I?" he wondered to himself.

"_Stark Tower, Level 56, guestroom B. Allow me to be the first to welcome you, Mr. Parker."_

"Holy shi-" as the voice came from the ceiling; Peter almost fell over in surprise of his question being answered.

Peter glanced up. There wasn't anyone in the room with him. And his Spider-sense wasn't going off. His panic eased slightly.

"Who are y- wait. Did you say Stark Tower?" That answered a lot of questions. And also explained who, or what, the voice was.

"_I did indeed, Mr. Parker. Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner can be found in the Delta Lab straight down the hallway to your right."_

"Oh. Thanks, JARVIS."

"_Not at all, sir."_

Peter slowly made his way to the door and peeked down the hall. It carried on in either direction for quite a ways, with doorways opening up at various intervals on either side. From the end of the hall he could hear Tony excitedly talking about something, probably to Bruce, whose replies were too quiet for him to hear. Or, he wasn't getting a word in edgewise, which was also entirely possible.

Peter quietly padded down the hall, trying to make sure not to touch any of the extremely expensive looking artwork that could be found on either of the walls beside him. He heard one of the doors along the hall opening and looked up to see Tony's former secretary, now CEO, walking briskly his way, focused on writing something on the tablet she was holding. She looked and smiled when she saw him.

"Oh! Peter, you're awake. That's wonderful."

She stuck out her hand.

"Pepper Potts. So glad to finally meet you in person. How are you feeling?"

"Uh, I'm sure I'll be right as rain in no time." He shook her hand. She nodded knowingly, having had much experience with superheroes in the past couple of months.

"Well, if you need anything, just ask JARVIS. And Bruce and Tony are just in that room there." She pointed down the hallway.

"Sure, thanks," he said as her phone began ringing and she answered it.

She covered the mouthpiece with one hand. "Bye, Peter. Nice meeting you."

He gave a slight wave as she continued down the hall to an elevator, talking on the phone as she went.

Peter resumed his journey to the lab, hoping that there were some stools there to sit on. Getting your side sliced open wasn't as fun as it looked, and he was getting a little tired just from walking. He entered the lab, which was full of Stark tech, and also a couple of ongoing experiments that looked slightly dangerous. Tony and Bruce were on each side of a counter debating some form of lab results on the table in front of them.

"I'm telling you Bruce, making it hot rod red will solve about 80% of your problems."

"I really don't think changing the color is going to have effect on it's performance..."

Tony lifted up his hands.

"I'm just saying; it'll look a lot cooler."

Tony looked up as Peter sat on the stool next to the table.

"Hey look, it's sleeping beauty! See Bruce, I told you he'd be fine."

Bruce just rolled his eyes and turned to Peter.

"How're you feeling? The stitches feel okay?"

Peter nodded. His head was already cleared and he felt more stable than when he woke up. Spider strength and healing powers to the rescue!

"Feels great, Bruce. Best stitches I've ever gotten."

Bruce nodded. "Well, make sure to not overextend yourself for the next week. You don't want to reopen the wound."

"Sure thing, doc." Peter agreed, though mentally he gave himself a day or two before he was out web swinging again. He glanced down at the results that Tony and Bruce had been discussing before.

"Are you guys working with Alpha particles here?" He leaned forward to get a better look.

Bruce answered, "Yes, actually. We were looking at the combined effect of isolating them and speeding their frequency to see if we could match the force of the..." Bruce continued explaining the experiment while Tony looked on in boredom.

JARVIS' voice filled the room.

"_Excuse me,sir, you have call from S.H.I.E.L.D. coming in on your cell phone."_

"Thank goodness. I need to get away from these radiation buffs."

Tony walked away answering his phone while Bruce and Peter, after briefly glancing up at Tony, continued their discussion.

"Yo."

"Stark; you, and Banner are going to be picked up at 0730 to have a briefing in the helicarrier tomorrow at 0800. We have a mission for you."

"Aw, Fury. 8 o'clock is _really _early. Can't we do something reasonable, say like, one?"

"No, Stark. And do _not_ be late." And he hung up.

Tony turned around, throwing his fists in the air.

"Bruce, we got a mission!"

* * *

**A/N: So here it is! The thrilling sequel to my first story; written by popular demand!**

**I hope you enjoy it, hopefully this one will be longer and a _little_ less open ended. ;)**

**I want you to excuse me any scientific blunders in this chapter and in any of the following;**

**I really don't know what I'm talking about and am totally bluffing. **

**Thanks for reading! Reviews are always appreciated. **


	2. Chapter 2

"…here's the file on the mission so you can read it beforehand." The copilot agent stood in front of where their seats were in the SHIELD helicopter and handed each of them a file folder. Bruce accepted his, and then Tony's as well, after Tony refused to take it saying that he 'didn't like to be handed things.'

The agent then grabbed two headsets from box and passed them to Tony and Bruce, setting Tony's down next to him and handing the other to Bruce. Bruce slid his on over his head, and when he looked up, the agent was still looking at him. When she realized that he had caught her gazed, she smiled.

"Make sure they're on securely!"

Slightly dubious of her attention, Bruce gave her a slight smile and a nod, readjusting his headset to show that it was indeed on securely. The agent nodded and turned to go to the front of the helicopter to sit in the copilot's seat as the engines started up. Bruce looked over at Tony, who appeared to have missed the exchange, having put on his headset and begun fiddling with his phone. Bruce shook his head and opened the file; she was probably just nervous about having the Hulk on board; heck, even _he _was nervous about having the Hulk on board. Though, he'd been getting better and better control over the Hulk, especially these past few months. They could almost… coexist?

Bruce refocused on the present and looked over at Tony, who had still not touched his file and was working on something that looked suspiciously like Iron Man blueprints on his phone.

"Are you going to read the file, Tony?"

Tony paused his work and considered the question for a moment.

"Nah." He resumed flipping through pages and designs on his phone. "Just tell me any important points that you come across as you're reading."

"Sure." He replied with only a slight hint of sarcasm, and opened up the file to begin reading. Even as he started, he realized that pretty much the entire file was an important point, but he tried read out the crucial ones to Tony as he came across them.

Halfway through a page on radiation signatures that SHIELD had recorded on the area they were heading, a sharp pain pierced right below his left ear where the pad of the headset rested. Bruce sucked in a breath of air and quickly took off the headset, his hand going to touch the affected area.

Tony looked over, an eyebrow raised. _Everything alright?_

Bruce nodded; there was no sign of an injury on his neck and inspection of the headset showed nothing out of the ordinary. It must have just been some sort of static electric glitch or shock. Bruce carefully put the headset back on, making sure it was significantly more loose this time.

Tony immediately returned to his screen after checking on Bruce. Bruce shook his head, trying to get rid of the residual shock. The helicopter suddenly seemed less comfortable, and he felt a small urge in the back of his mind to get out of here. He pushed the urge down and resumed reading the file. He really shouldn't have stayed up so late talking with Peter last night; the fatigue was making him stress too much.

…

They arrived at the SHIELD helicarrier base in after about twenty minutes, and upon landing, were guided to a small briefing room inside the base. There, Agent Hill stood in front of an electronic board what looked like a presentation on their mission. She seemed slightly more tense than usual; possibly because she had to talk to Tony Stark, who was not a favourite around SHIELD, or because she had to be in confined quarters with Bruce Banner, who had a history of Hulking out and destroying the SHIELD base.

"Dr. Banner, Mr. Stark." She greeted them and indicated that they sit down at the small table before her.

"Agent Hill." Tony and Bruce sat down dutifully, Tony apparently not having any witty remarks yet.

"Alright, we'll just cover the finer portions and procedures, branching off what was in the file."

She turned to the board, which then changed to a detailed picture of foreign weapons and security plans.

"Though extremely well shielded, broaching on impenetrable, we have detected an increase in military activity along the borders of Wakanda, as well as a suspicious emission of-"

"Hold on, hold on." Tony sat up, waving his hand for everything to stop. "Waka-what? Are you making up words now, Hill?"

Agent Hill sighed and clicked the screen back a few slides to display a map of a small country.

"_Wakanda_. A concealed and highly developed country located in East Africa; which you would know, Stark, if you had bothered to read the file we gave you."

"Oh, that! Bruce here was supposed to fill me in on the important points." He looked accusingly at Bruce.

Bruce met his gaze, his eyebrows raised. "I did, Tony, remember? The entire flight here I was reading? You were on your phone?"

Tony thought back to their ride to SHIELD that he had spent upgrading the paint job on the Iron Man suit so it would be nearly impossible to scratch. He vaguely remembered Bruce's voice coming through on the headset, though he hadn't really paid attention to it.

"Oh, yeah!"

Tony nodded and then motioned Hill to continue.

"As I was _saying_-" Hill looked pointedly at Tony, "it's difficult for SHIELD, or any organization at all, to have any sort of intelligence on Wakanda due to their impermeable defenses. However, through the minute intelligence that we do receive, we've been alerted to an increase of their patrols and security, suggesting that they may be under threat. Along with that, there was also a detection of an unknown radiation from their area, and though we can't be sure if its harmful or not, coupled with the increase of security we have reason to believe that it is. SHIELD has decided to send in a small team, you two, along with Captain America and some SHIELD field agents. The Captain and Stark should be able to offer help with any assistance needed by the people and address the situation of security. Captain America would also be there to act in matters of diplomacy."

"What? You don't think that I'm diplomatic enough?" Tony questioned.

Agent Hill answered the question with a pointed silence, raising an eyebrow in Tony's direction.

Tony raised his hands in defense, Bruce trying to hide a smile behind his hand.

"Okay, okay. You've got a point."

Agent Hill resumed the briefing.

"Dr. Banner, being the leading expert on radiation, will sent to identity and resolve whatever they're dealing with over there.

"SHIELD has almost zero relations with Wakanda; the same being said for any country in the world. They are historically unwelcoming to outsiders and tend to be very isolated towards the rest of the world."

Agent Hill then went on to explain the mission outlines. They were to go in and offer assistance. If Wakanda would accept their help, good. If they would allow a full SHIELD team to come in and help fully address the situation, better. Their main goal was to establish contact and make sure there were no immediate threats to the country.

Tony politely raised his hand while Agent Hill was mid sentence. She sighed.

"What, Stark?"

He sat forward in his chair.

"Look, I'm all about saving the day, Cap's all about helping people and being friendly, and Bruce is all about hanging out in shady foreign cities that no one has ever heard of-" he nodded to Bruce for agreement, who just wearily rubbed a hand over his face; which Tony then took as agreement.

"But what I'm having trouble seeing here, is what SHIELD has to gain. What, are you guys trying to make new friends or something?"

Agent Hill cleared her throat.

"The country of Wakanda sits on the Earth's largest and _only_ deposit of vibranium. Vibranium, as I'm sure you know, Stark, is extremely rare and extremely potent. It has the ability to cut through _any_ other known metal on Earth. If that were to fall into enemy hands, the results would be disastrous. We need to make sure that Wakanda is able to keep safe guarding the deposit, and if not, move it to defend it ourselves.

Tony smiled.

"Now _that_ sounds more like the SHIELD we know and love." He leaned back into his chair. "Well, not _love_, but, you know - tolerate."

Agent Hill sighed, "Just, let me try to get through this briefing, Stark."

Tony inclined his head and was mostly cooperative for the next hour as Agent Hill gave them the details on their mission.

…

The briefing finally concluded and Tony stood up, putting his arms over his head and stretching.

"If these meetings didn't take so long, I might actually go to more of them." He righted himself and then straightened the tie he was wearing.

Agent Hill, gathering up her binder and papers, looked up contemptuously at him.

"If you would read your briefing packet beforehand, they wouldn't _have_ to take so long."

Tony considered this for a moment.

"But why read the packet if I'm going to the briefing anyway?"

Agent Hill took a deep breath looking as though she were trying to calm herself.

"Just leave, Stark. Before I throw you out the nearest window."

Tony smiled. "Pleasure as always, Agent Hill."

He walked out the door, Bruce following soon behind and giving a sympathetic smile to Agent Hill.

…

_Meanwhile, at Stark Tower_

Clint sat down at the breakfast bar, eating a bowl of Cheerios. It was oddly quiet in the Tower this morning; the Captain was at some award ceremony, Bruce and Tony were at a SHIELD briefing, Thor was off-planet, Natasha still hadn't gotten back from their mission from yesterday, and Peter was still asleep. Truth be told, Clint had been surprised that the kid had woken up at all yesterday- with a wound that big and with that much blood loss, he'd figured he would be out for a couple of days, at least.

Clint held the bowl in his hand while eating and perched on the bar stool, enjoying the silence. It was a relative miracle to have quiet where Stark was concerned. He talked constantly to anyone who would, or wouldn't, listen. And when there was nothing alive for him to talk to, he began talking to JARVIS instead. Clint wondered why he and Natasha tended to hang out here so often; he knew full well that Stark got on her nerves as well- his constant chatter was the direct opposite of the tight-lipped efficiency of SHIELD that they were used to. But then again, maybe that _was_ why they kept coming back to the Tower. It was nice to have inconsequential banter with Tony, or sit down and watch a movie with Steve to help update him on the 70 years he missed, or listen to Bruce try to explain what a microwave was to Thor.

Clint chuckled at that memory; Thor was still convinced that there was some sort of magic involved with the heating process, and always approached the appliance with caution.

As he took another bite of cereal, the elevator dinged and Natasha stepped out, looking pristine as always even though she had just gotten back from duty. Only a few people were close enough to her to notice the slight slowness in her walk and the tiredness in her eyes that no amount of combat or field work could produce. Clint was one of those people.

He gave her a close-lipped smile, his mouth still full of cereal, and swallowed before asking,

"Paperwork?"

She sighed, walking to the cabinets, grabbing a bowl and sitting down next to him.

"Paperwork."

Clint nodded understandingly. Beyond the hours spent together in the field, the near death experiences, and the countless times they had saved each other's lives, Clint and Natasha also bonded over one of their many common enemies: after-mission paperwork.

Natasha began pouring herself the cereal that he had left on the table and Clint glanced down at the newspaper the Captain had left that morning. He snorted as he read the headline, the picture below it showing a scene from yesterday's escapade. Natasha raised an eyebrow, looking over at when he found amusing, not aware of yesterday's events.

Before he could explain, Peter walked into the room, hair standing up in all different directions and chest still wrapped in bandages.

"Morning Hawkeye, Widow."

"Mornin'." Clint could barely keep from laughing at the headline while Peter, oblivious to his amusement, walked past the bar to open the refrigerator. After a few moments of fruitless searching, Peter shut the door.

"For a billionaire, he really doesn't have a very well stocked pantry."

Clint nodded in agreement, having come to that conclusion himself on multiple occasions.

Peter grabbed a half-empty bag of chips - not too close to their expiration date - off the counter and sat down across from Clint and Natasha.

He glanced down at the newspaper that was upside down to him, his eyes landing on the picture from yesterday. Clint was trying to suppress a grin.

"Is that us?"

Clint nodded, not trusting himself with words. Natasha, having looked over at the newspaper and read enough to get the gist of what had happened, also had a small smirk that she tried to hide as she ate her cereal.

"You mind?" Peter indicated the newspaper and Clint motioned for him to take it, watching Peter's face as he flipped the newspaper over so it was right side up for him.

Peter's eyes widened as they fell on the headline:

_Avenger's save New York from Villains Doctor Octopus and Spider-Man_

"Aw, come on! Are you serious?"

Clint burst out laughing at the stunned disbelief on Peter's face when he looked up.

"Damn, Peter. And here I thought that you were _fighting_ the guy, I didn't know you had teamed up."

Peter scoffed at this, shaking his head as he looked back down at the paper.

"One of these days, I'm going to tell a robber exactly how to get to Jameson's safe, and then we'll see how smug he is."

Clint was still chuckling to himself as he drained the remaining milk from his bowl; he didn't know how the kid had made such an enemy of the media, but the length they went to to make him look like the bad guy was downright impressive - not to mention hilarious.

Once more, the elevator dinged and all three of them looked up as Tony and Bruce walked out and into the kitchen.

"Morning, team!" Tony said, approaching the bar.

"Stark, I'm surprised to see you awake and functioning this early in the morning." Natasha observed.

"Or, in the morning at all, for that matter." Clint added.

Tony looked at him patronizingly.

"We were at a briefing, as you well know, for a very important mission that Bruce and I are being sent on."

Clint raised an eyebrow.

"It can't be too important if they have you going, Stark."

Tony smirked at him triumphantly.

"Jealous that we got our own mission without you? Yeah, that's right; we're going on a mission, and you're staying home. How does it feel, Featherhead?"

Clint rolled his eyes, and then reached to answer his phone that had begun to vibrate in his pocket; while Tony started doing a small victory dance.

"Hawkeye."

Peter was smiling at Tony's antics, still not used to seeing the celebrity act like this.

"...yes, sir...of course, sir...Accompany them to Wakanda-" he looked pointedly at Stark, who froze mid-dance move.

"I'll tell her, sir... Yes, sir. Hawkeye out." He stuffed his phone into his pocket, glancing casually over at Tony, who was looking slightly less triumphant.

"Guess you'll have to tell me about it, Stark. 'Cause I wouldn't know." He said smugly, answering Tony's previous question.

Clint appreciated Tony's flustered silence as he put his empty bowl into the sink. He turned around, Tony's expression bordering on a pout.

"Bruce, Steve, you, Natasha, and I are all on the mission and we leave at 0600 tomorrow morning."

Tony scowled at this; however, his expression brightened as he had an idea.

"Well then, if Fury's sending you guys, I'm taking Web-head. We need someone to even out the fun and boring levels on the mission.

Peter brightened at this idea, getting ready to agree with it.

Bruce spoke up.

"I don't know if that's such a good idea. Peter is still healing from his injury, and really shouldn't do anything too strenuous for another week at least."

Tony scoffed. "Please," he threw his arm over Peter's shoulder. "We're hardly doing anything _strenuous_. Just some science, weapons, and diplomacy. Besides, Web-head could use the field work."

Peter nodded enthusiastically.

"Bruce, I feel great; like I could web swing across New York."

Bruce sighed, clearly torn between the fact that he thought Peter still needed time to heal, and the fact that it didn't matter at all what he thought, because Tony would do whatever he wanted anyway.

"Alright, fine." Bruce reluctantly agreed, and Peter and Tony enthusiastically high-fived.

"But definitely no web-swinging, that's the surest way to reopen the wound."

Peter dutifully nodded before excitedly asking questions about the mission.

Clint and Natasha shared a look, both of them amused at Stark's enthusiasm for a mission- thinking of it as something fun rather than a chore. Then he pulled out his phone again, readying to call Fury and tell him that they had an addition to the lineup.


	3. Chapter 3

The doors of the plane opened and Peter had to brace himself against the blast of air that came rushing through. Fortunately, his mask kept his face from being blown askew like a dog sticking its head out the window. They were getting ready to parachute down into what SHIELD assumed was the general vicinity of Wakanda. Even with his relative fearlessness concerning heights, the scene was rather daunting. He shook himself, looking away from the door; it was just like web-parachuting from a skyscraper. Except like one thousand times higher. But still.

They had partnered up for the parachute down. Bruce was strapped with Steve and looking slightly green; Peter hoped that was from the height and not…something else. Clint and Natasha strapped on the parachute with such efficiency it made Peter wonder just how often their missions required them to jump from heights together. Peter, in turn, was being fastened to Tony, who had on his Iron Man suit. Bruce had said that flying with Tony on the suit would put less strain on the stitches than parachuting would. Peter was almost positively sure that the wound was nearly healed and wouldn't cause him any trouble, but he went along with Bruce's suggestion anyway. Hey, he got to ride on the Iron Man suit - who was he to complain?

He latched the final buckle, his back now strapped to the front of the Iron Man suit.

Captain America yelled out to the group.

"Everyone ready?"

They all gave him a thumbs up.

The Captain looked back at the pilot who motioned that it was time to jump.

"All right, let's do this!"

Clint and Natasha jumped off first with practiced skill and grace, quickly falling and becoming smaller and smaller in the distance. The Captain and Bruce jumped next, Bruce's eyes shut tight, the Captain jumping with the resolve of a soldier. They too disappeared quickly, both parachutes opening at about the same time.

Iron man stood at the edge of the doors.

"Here we go!"

He jumped off the edge, but instead of just falling down, they blasted down, Tony firing the repulsors as they cut through the air.

Peter couldn't help but shout as they quickly approached the Captain and Bruce, wind pushing past his face and catching his breath.

"WHOOOO!"

They slowed slightly as they passed the rest of the team, looping around in the air until the others landed.

As Clint and Natasha approached the ground, Peter and Tony landed next to them, Bruce and Steve touching down a few yards away. Natasha unstrapped herself from Clint and as he began to roll up the parachute, she pulled out a GPS locator.

The straps around Peter retracted into the Iron Man suit and he stepped forward before looking back at Tony, who had lifted up his face plate.

"That...was _awesome_!"

Tony smiled knowingly, about to reply when Bruce and Steve caught up to the group, Bruce looking pretty shaken.

"I am _never_ doing that again."

Tony laughed. "Aw, come on, Bruce! You can't tell me that not even a small part of you enjoyed falling from twelve thousand feet."

"Especially not the small part," Bruce groaned.

Tony shook his head at this, him and Captain America walking over towards the Black Widow to consult the locator and decide which direction to begin walking. Some foliage seemed to catch Bruce's eye and he walked over to look at it, taking his glasses out of his pocket and putting them on for closer inspection. Peter, deciding that whatever Brue was looking at would be more interesting than looking at their directions, walked over to stand next to him.

"Find something interesting already?"

Bruce indicated the leaf he held in his hand.

"It's very minor. I only noticed because I was looking for any signs of radiation in the area. But the leaves have a slight bluish hue. "

Peter leaned closer to the leaf and saw that the tiny veins in the leaf did indeed look more blue than green.

"You think that it's some kind of strange African plant?"

Bruce shook his head, letting go of the leaf. "I'm more inclined to think of it as the result of radiation. However, there's only one kind that I know of to have this kind of effect on vegetation, Galván radiation. It is extremely rare, which might be why SHIELD couldn't identify it, but also generally harmless. It really shouldn't be any cause for concern…"

Bruce took off his glasses and put them on his head, rubbing his eyes with his hand.

"…Unless it's combined with a select few other radiations, but even then…" Bruce sighed.

Peter looked at him.

"You feeling okay, Bruce?"

Bruce put the glasses back on and gave him a weak smile.

"I've just been having trouble…concentrating, lately."

Peter narrowed his eyes, concerned about what - or more worryingly, who - was making it difficult for Bruce to concentrate.

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud cry and a spear striking the shield of Captain America.

Suddenly, they were under attack.

…

Bruce blinked as their mission became way more exciting than he had anticipated it would be. They were suddenly surrounded by a group of hostile natives all charging at them. At the first sign of trouble, Clint had jumped into a tree branch, pulled out his bow, and begun firing arrows to ward off attackers in a matter of seconds. Natasha was engaged with three in hand to hand combat, but for the first time in his life, Bruce saw that she was struggling to maintain the upper hand.

Tony shot into the air to try to take on their attackers from above. Cap had thrown his shield to take out as many of the attackers as possible, only to be surprised when one of them caught it straight out of the air. He was now throwing punches, but the warriors' training appeared to rival that of the Widow and Hawkeye's and the punches seemed to be hitting nothing but air.

Peter and Bruce were slightly separated from the skirmish, for which Bruce was grateful. He had almost zero fighting ability, because, honestly, anytime that he did get into a fight, it was _him_ that was fighting for long. Now was _not _a good time for the Other Guy to make an appearance, especially since in the past couple of days he had been more and more anxious to do just that.

Bruce looked around; the people the Avengers were fighting looked to be indigenous - very possibly the Wakandans that they were trying to help. He tried to think of some way to prevent everyone from killing each other before they could even offer assistance, though at this point it didn't look like the warriors would be very receptive to the Avenger's help. Peter looked like he was getting ready to jump into the action, when a previously hidden warrior jumped out of his cover and struck Peter behind the head. The attacker was smaller than the rest, perhaps just a boy, but also amply quick. As Peter turned, raising his hands in defense, the small warrior struck a blow at Peter's unprotected rib cage and side. Brue realized with panic that it was Peter's wounded side as Peter immediately clutched it, bending over in pain.

The attacker drew back his arm, readying for a knockout blow, when Bruce, not thinking that it wouldn't do much good, shouted, "Stop!"

The warrior, surprised at the outburst, smoothly shifted his body and directed the blow to Bruce instead, hitting him squarely in the jaw.

Bruce crumpled to the ground, not because the blow had been that devastating, but because suddenly, holding back the Hulk was the only thing he could focus on. His vision became tinted green and the anger was overwhelming. He curled on the ground, clutching his head. He was barely holding down the Hulk and any further distraction or provocation would unleash him.

"Wait!" Tony shouted. The Avengers stopped fighting, and the warriors cautiously surrounded, still braced for battle but not fighting.

The Iron Man suit shook to the ground as he landed near Bruce.

"_Kukaa nyuma au mimi kumuua!" _ The warrior shouted at Tony in a foreign language, making a show of shoving his spear close to Bruce's neck.

Tony raised his hands in surrender, not understanding the words, but getting the message.

"_Shuri, kusimama chini."_ The man who had caught Captain America's shield walked forward into view, all the other warriors looked to him as he spoke, his authority obvious.

The small warrior answered defensively.

"_Mtu huyu ni Hulk na ni tishio kwa mji wetu."_

Tony, recognizing the word 'Hulk', interjected.

"Look, guys, he's only going to Hulk out if you keep hitting him like that."

The leader met the small warrior's gaze until he finally took his spear away from Bruce; however, he still stood guardedly next to him. Then the leader finally looked to the Avengers.

"My name is T'Challa, commander of the Wakandan guard. For what reason do you trespass into our land?"

The group was slightly taken aback by his fluent English. Captain America spoke.

"We're the Avengers. It was made known to us that your country was in distress, and we're here to help you in any way possible."

T'Challa seemed to consider this for a moment.

"We will allow you to live, and will take you to the city. However, you must come peacefully, and unarmed."

The Captain stood tall and looked the commander in the eye.

"We agree."

"Remove their weapons." T'Challa ordered. He then walked over to the warrior near Bruce and spoke to him in hushed tones. Peter stood to the side, mostly recovered from the blow, though he kept a protective hand on his side, and watched over Bruce who was still desperately clutching his head.

The warriors moved in to follow their orders.

"Whoa, whoa! We're not just going to _give_ them our weapons-" Hawkeye protested, the Black Widow still armed in a wary stance.

"It's fine, guys." The Captain handed his only side arm to the warrior next to him. "We're on a peaceful mission here, remember?"

Hawkeye mumbled a retort before jumping off his branch and handing off his bow and quiver.

"Do _not_ scratch that." He threatened lowly to the man who now held his bow.

The Black Widow had begun stripping herself of her arsenal, pulling off so many guns, ammo packages, and knives, that it took two people to hold it all.

Peter gave them his web-shooters, the only form of weapon that he had.

"You too, Tony," the Captain said pointedly as he walked over and knelt beside Bruce, Tony smirking over at Hawkeye.

"What! Me? You can't possibly expect- this isn't even a weapon!"

The Captain leveled his gaze.

"Fine." Tony pressed a button and the suit began disassembling and folded into a suitcase. A warrior came over and picked it up.

"Be careful with that, it might explode." Tony said casually before walking over to help Cap lift Bruce up, throwing his arms over both of their shoulders. He was still really tense, obviously having trouble fighting the Hulk, for whatever reason.

The Avengers started walking, following T'Challa to the city, surrounded by Wakandans on all sides.

"You got this Bruce. Just tell the Big Guy that now's not a good time for a visit."


	4. Chapter 4

They walked for about half a mile on a hidden path through tall grasses and occasional trees. The Wakandans surrounding them maintained a stony silence, except for T'Challa and the small warrior who walked together at the front, having a heated discussion in a hushed whisper.

The group stopped walking when they entered a clearing, the sight of a fifty foot wall overtaking their vision. T'Challa walked ahead to the gate, shouting something in the Wakandans' language. The gate swung slowly open, the two giant doors silently turning in, operated by some sort of mechanical device and guarded by two Wakandans. The group was ushered into the city and began walking up a main boulevard, the gate shutting noiselessly behind them.

Upon entering the city, Tony knew that it was supposed to be teeming with people. There were small houses up and down the streets covering the front of the city. There were carts set out, meant to be full of goods for sale and manned by merchants ready to sell them. However, there were no merchants; and the carts stood empty. The streets were silent, though there was movement inside the houses. He didn't think that the people were hiding from them; all the Wakandans he had met so far were pretty offensive rather than timid, so he could only suppose that they were hidden from whatever it was the Avengers were supposed to help them with.

Within the city to the east were fields and pastures, and to the west was a small mountain, a side road leading off to it. The group continued down the main road, leading up to what looked like the center of the city; a building the size of a castle, though unlike any sort of castle that Tony had ever seen. Rather than stones, it was made of a shining metal ore that looked familiar, but he couldn't quite place. He wished that he still had his Iron Man suit so he could ask JARVIS about it, but had to make do with just wondering to himself.

Bruce had become more relaxed as their journey went on, though he was still leaning heavily on Steve and Tony. Tony wondered what had brought him so close to losing control; Bruce had really improved over the last couple of months - he could practically Hulk-in and Hulk-out at will. The blow had probably just been too much of a surprise and so Bruce hadn't been able to brace himself. That's probably what happened.

The group approached the central castle building and the whispers of T'Challa and the warrior grew more intense. T'Challa stopped outside and sighed. He turned to face them.

"The doctor will be taken to a reinforced cell until he has completely recovered from his...episode."

The Avengers looked up in shock and confusion, surprised at the announcement. Tony took a breath, getting ready to protest their decision.

"But-"

T'Challa raised his hand, silencing Tony's protest.

"We will not take any risks concerning the safety of our city. The doctor will temporarily be put in an isolated room until we are sure of his control and recovery. You have my word that no harm shall come to him."

Tony still wasn't happy with the arrangement. Bruce would be fine! They were here to _help_, not destroy the city. He was about to say so out loud when the Captain gave him a pointed look. Tony shut his mouth and returned the stare.

The Captain looked back at T'Challa.

"Alright."

He shifted Bruce's weight over to a waiting guard who, accompanied by another, began to walk away from the group in a different direction. Tony moved closer to the Captain as the group walked up the stairs to enter the building.

"What do you think you're doing? You can't just let them throw Bruce in a dungeon!" he whispered in a harsh tone.

The Captain replied calmly, also whispering.

"If we want these people to trust us, we're going to have to trust them too. I don't think that they mean us any harm."

Tony scoffed at this.

"Yeah, no worries. We're just outnumbered and unarmed in a foreign city that is notoriously hostile to outsiders."

The Captain looked at him, still calm despite their potentially dangerous situation.

"You're just upset because they took your suit."

Tony sputtered, "Well, _yeah_, it's my _suit_. But also the fact that they took off with Bruce to who knows where, to do who knows what all the while they're doing the same to us."

"Tony, we're here to help these people and that means that _they _will have control of the situation, not us. Besides, they have a legitimate concern, and even if they tried to mess with Bruce, they wouldn't be able to get very far with it, now would they?"

Tony was silent, accepting the Captain's point, and at that point, after having walked through multiple wide hallways, they entered a tall ceilinged room that stretched far ahead, a throne at the end of the room. Seated on the throne was a man clad in a black suit, a black cape around his shoulders, and a black mask of a panther. Obviously a leader, and based on the castle and throne, Tony was leaning towards the title 'king'.

They followed T'Challa forward into the room, the others guards standing back at the door. He came to a halt halfway across the room, the Avengers stopping a few feet behind him. He knelt down on one knee, bowing his head to the man on the throne.

"_Mfalme wangu, nimemleta watu ambao wanaweza kuwa na uwezo wa kusaidia katika mji wetu hatma yake." _

The king didn't answer, and continued to stare forward at T'Challa. T'Challa raised his head.

"_Mfalme wangu?" _

The king then stood up, revealing now, that he was old, as his legs slightly shook and he held the arm of his throne for support. What appeared to be a physician rushed from a side door and to the man's side. She held his arm as he stood tall, using her for stability.

Though he appeared weak, his gravelly voice came out strong and angry.

"_Kuthubutu kuleta wageni katika nchi yetu? Wakati watu wetu wagonjwa wetu? Wakati ulinzi wetu ni dhaifu? Wakati mimi ni kufa?"_

T'Challa stood, looking slightly hurt by the man's words.

"_Baba, sisi kufanya hakuna maendeleo ya tiba wakati wote zaidi na zaidi ya watu wetu wanakufa. Watu hawa watakuwa na uwezo wa-"_

The king held up his hand and T'Challa was immediately quiet.

"_T'Challa, mimi kukua kuwa kwa saa. Hivi karibuni, wewe utakuwa mfalme. Lakini naogopa kwamba ni mapema mno, kwa huna hekima ya mtawala."_

The king stood there shaking, slowly losing the strength to stand.

T'Challa stood tall, his face devoid of any emotions.

Tony cleared his throat. "Um, excuse me."

Everyone in the room turned to look at him, his voice breaking the cold silence.

"I don't know what's going on here," he gestured towards the king and T'Challa, "But I just want to say: Your city is looking _pretty_ barren. Now, people only do that when they're afraid; and I can tell you that they're not afraid of us. There is something threatening your city, and from the looks of it, I'd have to say it's a pretty big threat. Not to brag or anything, but The Avengers have a pretty good track record when it comes to handling threats, and we're here to help; you just have to let us."

The king had stared silently at Tony as he spoke and for a few moments after he had finished. Then without saying anything to Tony, he looked back at T'Challa.

"_Kufanya nini lazima. Siwezi kukuzuia kutupa mbali nchi yetu na njia zenu wajinga."_

The king turned to the physician, who had kept a blank face for the duration of the conversation, and they slowly walked out of the room.

T'Challa didn't move until the king was gone from the room. He then turned toward their group, sadness in his eyes. He cleared his throat.

"I will have you shown to the rooms where you can sleep during your stay, and then fully disclose to you the problem plaguing our city."

The Captain inclined his head. "Thank you, T'Challa. We hope to be able to help you in any way we can."

T'Challa nodded. "As do I, Captain."

The team turned and began to leave the room, following a Wakandan out a side door.

"Mr. Spider-Man, if you would follow me, I will lead you to the medics wing."

Captain America looked in surprise at Peter, his gaze zeroing in on the hand that was pressed firmly to his side.

"You injured, Peter?"

Peter brushed off the group's concern, shaking his head.

"It's fine, guys! Just need a Band-Aid, is all."

Captain America looked at him scrutinizingly before nodding his head.

Tony shook his head as they left the room, Peter walking the opposite way, following T'Challa. The kid had quite the knack for getting hit in the side.

* * *

Peter walked after T'Challa, still holding his side. It wasn't bleeding nearly as bad as when he had first gotten the wound, but it was starting to hurt a lot, and it was probably good that he was getting medical attention.

He thought about the scene they had just witnessed, and wondered what exactly had gone down between T'Challa and the king. The king definitely hadn't sounded happy to see them there, but they hadn't been kicked out either, so T'Challa must have reasoned with him. He wondered if all commanders of the guard spoke to their kings like that, or if maybe T'Challa was more than just a soldier.

He cleared his throat.

"Um, excuse me, T'Challa?"

T'Challa looked back at him.

"Yes?"

"Are you related to the king?"

Again, the slight sadness that had been in his eyes when he had spoken with the king flashed in T'Challa's eyes. He looked forward.

"Yes. He is my father."

Peter nodded, taking this in. Prince of Wakanda. Impressive.

"He didn't sound very happy about us helping you guys."

T'Challa sighed.

"My father and I have had...differing opinions, on our policy of interactions with outsiders for years now. It is a sore point between us."

Peter was more than slightly impressed that T'Challa had defied his father, the king, to bring the Avengers here.

T'Challa's mood seemed to have darkened and Peter decided that this, perhaps, wasn't the best topic for discussion.

"So the king wears a mask. Is his identity a secret?"

T'Challa chuckled at this.

"No. Unlike you, Spider-Man, my father's identity is not secret. The mask is his symbol of power and authority. In Wakanda, the panther is highly revered; almost sacred to our people. It is considered the leader of the animal kingdom, whose authority is checked by no one. So, too, is our king, and the mask symbolizes this. However, it is also our belief that the man who wears the mask of the Black Panther not only has the authority, but the powers of the panther as well."

Peter was duly impressed, the panther mask seeming way cooler now than when he had seen it before.

T'Challa turned and they entered at small room with a hospital bed in it, a doctor waiting nearby.

Peter sat on the bed and the doctor motioned for him to remove his shirt, apparently not speaking English like T'Challa.

T'Challa stood off to the side.

"And why do you wear a mask, Spider-Man? The rest of your team is quite open with the world, and surely a man of your powers would not be afraid to face his enemies. What is your need for secrecy?"

Peter sighed, having taken off his shirt and gloves and left his mask in place while the doctor cut off the remaining bandages to examine his wound.

"I don't do it to protect myself, it's to protect my friends and family. The rest of the team doesn't have to worry about that. Thor's world is in another galaxy entirely, Clint and Natasha's whole lives are SHIELD work, the only friends that Bruce _has_ are the Avengers, and Tony has more security than the White House. Behind this mask, I'm an ordinary guy. I've got an aunt that's in a regular nursing home, and friends from school that I sometimes go get pizza with. Any one of them could be killed or taken hostage if any of my enemies knew who I was. I couldn't possibly risk their safety just to take off my mask."

T'Challa looked at him with empathy as he listened.

"I think that the media has misjudged you greatly, Spider-Man. Your mask is not a symbol of you cowardice, but of your courage."

Peter shrugged at this.

"That's what I keep trying to tell them. But news people can be a thick-headed bunch."

The doctor, who had been gently examining Peter's side, looked up at him and began speaking in Wakandan.

Peter looked up in confusion at T'Challa.

"What did he say?"

"He says that you've torn some of your stitches and are going to need a few more."

Peter groaned. "Bruce is _not_ going to be happy about this."

T'Challa laughed.

"Then you have your work cut out for you. Dr. Banner does not seem like one to be made angry."

Peter laughed too.

"I don't know about angry. But I'm definitely in for a big 'I told you so'. Which might be just as bad."

The doctor began applying a numbing agent to Peter's side, a nurse rolling a cart with tools on it over.

"Well, Spider-Man, I must leave you to your stitches. I will have someone escort you to your room once the surgery is over."

"Thanks. And thank you, T'Challa, for letting us try to help."

T'Challa inclined his head and left the room as Peter laid down on the bed and the doctor got to work, sewing Peter's side together once more.

* * *

Bruce paced in the cell, worried. Everything was a blur after he had been punched; he'd been so focused on the battle he had going on in his head that he hadn't noticed what had happened in the battle _outside_ his head. Was Peter alright? Where was the rest of the team? Were they being held captive too?

He sat down on the metal bench on the metal wall, the only furniture in the room. A room obviously chosen to keep him contained if he hulked out; but he knew that it wouldn't have. Sighing, he ran his hands through his hair. It shouldn't have been that hard to recover from a blow to the head. But after months of improvement, it seemed like the Hulk was right on the edge of his consciousness all the time, and stronger too. He closed his eyes, leaning against the wall. It was just the stress of flying and doing a SHIELD mission.

He would be fine.

He hoped.

The door of the room opened and his eyes flew open. He looked over, surprised to see the very warrior who had punched him in the face. Except, contrary to his first impression, the warrior was not a young boy; but a woman.

She no longer had on the fighting garb that the group of Wakandans was wearing earlier, but a woven skirt and beaded top. She now had on large earrings that jingled slightly as she moved, their length a contrast to her shaved head.

She looked at him curiously, as if surprised to see him sitting there.

"You have not turned into a green rage monster." She observed. He wondered if he should be surprised that she spoke English. He smiled wanly.

"Yeah. I try to avoid doing that on a regular basis. Though, getting punched in the face doesn't usually help."

She crossed her arms defensively.

"I only attack those you threaten our city. But,"

She uncrossed her arms, a slight apologetic tone in her voice.

"I will try to remember to avoid punching you."

Bruce nodded his acceptance of this proposal, though he was slightly skeptical of the agreeableness of the conversation. Wasn't he being held prisoner?

"You are much...smaller, than I thought you to be."

Bruce looked up at her skeptically.

"I get that a lot, actually... Have you seen me before?"

She nodded, not explaining further.

"Where?"

She shrugged, "The usual places, TV. Internet. There are some very enlightening YouTube videos featuring you."

"Oh." So they had Internet access and television? That hadn't been in the SHIELD report. He began to wonder how much of this mission was uncharted territory for SHIELD.

She began walking out the door.

"Come with me. I will show you to your proper room."

He stood up, wondering at the almost friendliness of the Wakandans now.

"And here I had just warmed up to the place."

She smiled, walking slightly ahead of him.

"I think you will find your new room to be slightly more...comfortable."

They walked a short ways down the hall, passing only a couple of people that gave him looks of curiosity. They made a turn into a different hallway, where there were no other people. She stopped at the first doorway and opened the door, standing by to let Bruce walk through.

"This is where you'll be staying. It has it's own full bathroom, as well as a small kitchen, though you are invited to join us for meals in the banquet hall."

Bruce walked through the room, the bed suddenly reminding him how tired he was. But even more pressing than his need for sleep was his need to find out where the rest of the Avengers were.

He turned around to ask, but she starting speaking before he could.

"The rest of your team's rooms are located down this hallway. However, at the moment, they are in a conference room, where T'Challa is going to explain what we are dealing with right now."

Bruce nodded and gestured out.

"Lead the way."

She began walking away, maneuvering the maze of hallways with obvious familiarity.

They walked past an open door where a familiar form wearing a familiar mask reclining on a hospital bed caught his eye.

Peter waved at him from the bed.

"Hey, Bruce! You're looking a lot better."

Bruce stood in the doorway, his guide off to the side.

"I'm feeling better. How about you? You weren't looking all that good the last time I saw you." He raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, that? Please, no problem at all. Doctor checked it out, gave me a few stitches, and put on some fresh bandages. Everything is a-okay." Peter had mumbled the middle part of the sentence, obviously trying to get it past Bruce's attention.

"More stitches?"

"Yeah, well..." Peter hopped off the bed, albeit slowly. "It's all cool now, and I'll be better before you know it." He walked out of the room, past Bruce.

"I seem to recall you saying that before, and yet here we are."

The woman started walking again, and Peter walked with Bruce. He wore clothes that looked like they had come from the Wakandans, replacing his costume except for his mask, which he still had on.

"So, where are we going?"

"We're are going to meet with my brother, who is hopefully going to find out if you Avengers will be able to help us."

Peter looked up with interest.

"T'Challa is your brother?"

"Indeed." She answered without looking back.

"Older or younger?"

She stopped in front of a door where, upon looking in, they saw T'Challa standing in front of the rest of their team, talking.

"Older." She cleared her throat, turning to Peter. "I apologize for wounding you in the way I did. I did not realize you were not seeking to attack Wakanda."

"Please, no apology necessary. That's most people's first impulse when they meeting me, anyway. No hard feelings."

She gave a slight laugh at this, before Peter walked into the room and joined the rest of the team. Bruce was about to follow him when she stuck out her hand.

"My name is Shuri, by the way."

Bruce, slightly surprised, took her hand and shook it.

"Bruce Banner. But I guess you would have already known that."

She smiled.

"Yes. But it is a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Banner."

He smiled back.

"Likewise."

* * *

Translations: Translated by lines in the order they appear:

T'Challa: My king, I have brought people who may be able to help us in our plight.

T'Challa: My king?

King: You dare bring strangers to our land? When our people are sick? When our defenses are weak? When I am dying?

T'Challa: Father, we make no progress on a cure, all the while more and more of our people are dying. These people will be able to-

King: T'Challa, I grow weaker by the hour. Soon, you shall be king. But I fear that it is too soon, for you do not have the wisdom it takes to rule Wakanda.

King: Do what you must. I can no longer stop you from throwing away our country with your foolish ways.

* * *

**Author's Note: Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing! ****I love to hear what you think!**

**Some of you are wondering whether Thor will be making an appearance...**

**Let's just say that weather reports are saying to expect some thunder in later chapters.**


	5. Chapter 5

"I assume that your team was briefed on Wakanda's situation by SHIELD?" T'Challa asked the group as both Peter and Bruce finally sat down.

"We were briefed on _a_ situation in Wakanda, SHIELD didn't know the specifics. Your shields block even them out."

T'Challa nodded, taking this in.

"We have increased shielding to maximum capacity, to ward off any threats in our vulnerability."

He sighed, shaking his head.

"It began six days ago. Patrol groups 1 and 12 were out along the country's borders and, having finished our three day round of patrol, were waiting for groups 3 and 5 to meet us at the checkpoints to relieve us and begin their patrol. However, they never showed, and my radio calls were met with silence. I led Patrol 1 into the city and left 12 to begin another round.

"Upon entering the city, we were met with mass panic - an epidemic had swept through the city, leaving more than half the population bedridden, there had already been hundreds of casualties and our physicians had no cure or treatment; they had not even found the source of the epidemic. We issued a city-wide quarantine, hoping to avoid further spread of whatever this illness was.

"Our patrol then rushed to the capital. There were only a few select members of the facility who were still on their feet, and most were soon falling ill. Including the king."

T'Challa cleared his throat, the reason for the king's illness finally explained, and the seriousness of the situation further pressed upon them.

"The next few days, our remaining researchers kept working on a cure and our people kept dying. We soon found that the illness had never been contagious; our water supply had been poisoned with radiation which had affected any who ingested the water. The only people left unscathed were our two patrols, who never had contact with the poisoned water. At that point, we realized that this was an attack on Wakanda. We increased shielding, and would have increased patrol, had it been possible, however, the entirety of the defense squadron that hadn't been on patrol was taken by the illness.

"Patrols 1 and 12 have been switching patrols one day on and one off shifts, protecting the borders and attacking any unknown forces until a cure can be found. However, my troops are growing weary; they are spread thin, only having minimal rest the past five days. And our researchers, the few who can still stand, are unable to find a cure to the poisoning.

"Our city will not be able to continue much longer if we cannot stop the way things are going right now."

Bruce cleared his throat, surprising everyone in the doleful silence.

"I...uh, I may have an idea as to what you're dealing with here. Based on some vegetation I observed along your borders, I think the water supply may have been contaminated with a form of Galván radiation; which is normally very benign, but if it had somehow reacted with another active radiation it could possibly-"

T'Challa stopped him. "You are familiar with this form of radiation?"

Bruce paused, gathering his thoughts after being interrupted.

"Not...totally, but I'm an expert in radiation and I've worked with it once-"

T'Challa looked at Bruce, his gaze as hopeful as they had ever seen it.

"Will you go to the labs and consult with our researchers; help them find a cure?"

"Yes, of course. I mean, I'll try."

The was the barest hint of a smile on T'Challa's face.

"Excellent. Shuri will again lead you there. Thank you, Dr. Banner."

"Not at all, that's what I'm here for."

Bruce stood up abruptly after a pause, realizing that he was expected to go _now_, and followed Shuri out of the room.

The Captain spoke up.

"The rest of us would be willing to work with your security detail, T'Challa. Wherever you need us; we're here to help."

T'Challa nodded.

"That would be very helpful, Captain. The patrolmen that we do have are spread thin because they are filling the roles of others who have taken ill. Hawkeye, the Widow, and yourself can join the patrols."

Tony looked up sharply at this.

"Hey, what am I, Aquaman? Give me my suit and I'll be able to run this whole patrol thing on my own."

"I am afraid that that is not possible, Mr. Stark."

Tony opened his mouth, ready to continue debating, but T'Challa put up his hand, continuing.

"My father has had your equipment locked in the treasury, with express orders for none of you to be given any weapons. I have already tried to reason with him, but he will not hear it. He does not trust outsiders and is very suspicious of you."

"But, with JARVIS I could so much more of a help to you."

"No matter the sense of the suggestion, the king's command cannot be overridden, except by the king himself."

Tony groaned, slouching down into his chair. Then, he brightened.

"Hey, you could let me take a look at your shields and defenses. I'm sure I could at least double the efficiency of whatever system you've got right now."

Tony looked expectantly at T'Challa, who had paused, considering the suggestion. In the pause, Tony suddenly realized how intrusive his request had been; T'Challa would be letting a near stranger look into the defense system of their entire country, which was invasive enough, but also to reprogram and mess with it at a time when they didn't know where the next attack was going to come from. To allow that, the Wakandans would have to show something that they didn't seem to have in ample supply: trust.

"You know what, that's okay, I'll just go-"

"Thank you, Mr. Stark. I will appreciate your assistance."

"Oh." Tony was taken aback. He had expected to be firmly shut down and warned off. Instead, his offer was embraced. "Well, great! When do we get started?"

"I will take you to system controls myself." T'Challa looked back at the rest of the group.

"Hawkeye, Black Widow; you will be assigned to Patrol 12. They are leaving from their round in-" he glanced at a clock on the wall. "-five minutes. Do you recall the way to the front courtyard?"

Natasha nodded, standing, with Hawkeye following suit. Being the super spies that they were, they both probably already had half the building mapped out in their heads.

Before turning to go out the door, Hawkeye looked back to T'Challa.

"So I'm guessing I won't be able to get my bow for this?"

T'Challa just shook his head.

Hawkeye sighed.

"Thought not."

Then he and the Black Widow quickly left the room, hurrying to catch up with their newly assigned patrol group.

T'Challa turned to Captain America.

"Captain, I will have you stationed with Patrol 1. During their off rotation, half the team is getting a few hours of rest while the other half of the team is delivering supplies throughout the city to the affected families. I will have you join that half today and you will go on patrol with them tomorrow."

Captain America nodded.

"Whatever you need, T'Challa."

T'Challa shoulders relaxed as if he had been tense for the duration of their meeting.

"Excellent, now if you all could follow me; Captain, I will show you to where the supplies are being coordinated, and Mr. Stark to the shield maintenance area."

…..

"...and the research lab will be right down the hall here. T'Challa has been seeing to the higher education of any citizens interested and sends them all across the world to the best universities to get the best education available, making our researchers some of the best in their field. T'Challa hopes to eventually start a university of our own here in Wakanda, once there are enough people here to teach at one."

Shuri stopped in front of the door to the lab and placed her hand on a scanning mat on the wall, which scanned her hand and unlocked the door.

"That's really quite impressive." Bruce acknowledged, amazed at the foresight of T'Challa, especially being as young as he was. He had to be in his early twenties at the most.

"That is what I told T'Challa when he first brought up the idea a couple years ago. Though our father was less than pleased with the idea of Wakandans interacting with foreigners."

Shuri sighed, leading Bruce into the lab.

"Here are the facilities, you are welcome to use whatever equipment or supplies that you need. Down there is Dr. Chana. He's been working on the cure and will be able to brief you on their progress so far."

She pointed the only other man in the room who was off at the other end looking into a microscope, leaning heavily on the table.

"Dr. Chana?" Shuri began walking towards the man, past lab counters with various sets of equipment, papers, and experiments scattered across them, Bruce following her close behind.

"Dr. Chana? This is Dr. Bruce Banner. He's an expert in radiation and has offered to help- Dr. Chana?"

As they got closer to the doctor, it became clear he was struggling to hold himself upright, his arms shaking with the effort. They soon gave out and he began to slump forward, Shuri catching him before he hit the ground.

"Dr. Chana, I thought you said that you had not been affected."

"I...held out...for as long as...I could."

His words came out in wheezes and it was clear that all his weight was being supported by Shuri.

Bruce bent to help Shuri with the doctor, sure that they needed to go and take him somewhere to lie down.

The doctor gesture for him to stop and pointed to the folder on the table.

"That folder...contains everything we have on the poisoning. Find...the cure...Banner, before... before..."

The doctor descended into a fit of coughing before he could finish and Shuri began to walk him out of the room, leaving Bruce alone in the lab.

He looked down at the table and picked up the disturbingly thinly filled folder. He opened the folder, revealing it held three sheets of paper; and as he read he fought back the increasing weight of responsibly as it became clearer and clearer that he may be their only hope.

…

T'Challa and Peter stood in the room, leaning against the wall, while Tony was on his back messing with wires underneath the console. There were computer screens lining it, showing various readouts and images from along the borders. A couple of the screens showed the current patrol, 12, running past and scouting the border. Peter even caught a glimpse of Hawkeye and the Black Widow through the various trees and foliage.

He looked to T'Challa who was also watching the screens.

"You have life sign readings and security cameras lining the borders, right?"

T'Challa nodded.

"Yes."

"So why the need for patrol teams? It's a little redundant, isn't it?"

T'Challa inclined his head.

"Perhaps. But also consider this; no matter how advanced our security is, how sophisticated the technology, there will always be someone or some organization that can beat it. Our patrols have no blind spots, no power outages, and cannot be hacked. Though our technology guards the city, we are that much safer because of the patrols."

Tony scooted out from under the console, shutting the panel closed as he did so.

"He's got a point there, Pete. I know that I would much rather come across an automated security protocol rather than trained guards. Way easier to get past; and a lot less work. One of the reasons I keep Happy and his team around the Stark Tower. But then again, you can never beat a good old fashioned automated shield protocol. Speaking of which..."

He stood up and pulled over a rolling chair, plunking down in front of a control screen and beginning to flip switches and pull up control readings.

"You guys do have a scanning system within your shield, right?"

T'Challa raised an eyebrow at Tony's somewhat chaotic method.

"Indeed."

"Well then, let's see how far we can get this baby to go."

…

Steve rode in the back of a jeep-like vehicle with the other patrolmen down the streets of Wakanda as they delivered various amounts of food, medicine, and other supplies to nearly every house they rode past.

The commander of the team, and the only one there who could speak English, told the Captain about what they were doing.

Though not many had ever happened before, when city wide epidemics or attacks occurred, it was tradition for the king to support the people until the crisis was over. This meant providing food, power, medicine, supplies, and anything else that the people needed. There was actually a team of volunteers that were usually the ones to help give out the supplies, but they had all taken ill with the poisoning. The two remaining squadrons had taken it upon themselves to fulfill those duties when they could.

Steve listen, impressed with the sense of community that these people seemed to have. It was heartening to see people helping their fellow man just because of the fact that he needed help.

The vehicle came to a stop at the end of a street and all it's occupants hopped out, grabbing a box or basket of supplies to be delivered at the appropriate house.

Steve grabbed the box nearest to him and walked to a nearby house that matched the address written on top.

He knocked on the door and stood waiting for it to open. He heard shuffling inside and house, and heavy coughs before the door was slowly opened by a small woman wrapped in a shawl. As she looked up, he was startled by the almost unnatural blue of her eyes. He cleared his throat, moving past the unsettling physical feature.

"Ma'am, these some supplies for your household."

He indicated the box he was carrying.

The woman stared at him in shock for a moment, looking as if she were about to slam the door. But she glanced past the Captain and saw the other soldiers delivering supplies and realization of what he was there for dawned on her face.

She opened the door wider for him and pointed to a table in another room.

"_Tafadhali, kuweka zaidi ya hapo."_

"Sure thing." He said, getting the message. He walked over and set the box on the table; the woman following behind him.

"_Asante."_

Steve nodded.

"You're welcome."

He turned to go but before he could, a boy walked into the room, rubbing his eyes as if he had just woken up, the sickly paleness of his face and unnatural blue of his eyes matching that of his mother's.

"_Mama?"_

He broke out into a fit of coughing before finally realizing that there was someone else in the room.

When his eyes lit on Steve a smile blossomed on his face.

"Captain America?!"

The Captain raised his eyebrows, surprised that the boy could identify him when it was clear that his mother didn't even speak English.

The boy looked over to his mother.

"_Mama, wake Kapteni Kaskazini! Kutoka Avengers!"_

The mother looked as though she were getting ready to shoo the little boy out of the room. But before she could, he ran over to the Captain and shook his hand, causing the Captain to chuckle at his enthusiasm.

"It is an...honor to...meet you Captain America. You are...amazing!" The boy spoke in broken English, struggling with some of words, but his excitement came through loud and clear, shining through on his face.

"Are you here to help fight bad guys that attacked us?"

The Captain sobered a bit at this, the realization hitting him that this family was suffering from the radiation poisoning and this little boy was in a very real danger of dying from it.

The Captain lowered himself so that he was eye level with the boy.

"What's your name, son?"

The boy smiled proudly.

"Paki, just like my dad!"

The Captain put a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Paki, I'm going to do everything that I can to stop the bad guys."

…

Hawkeye muttered another curse as yet another branch managed to smack him in the face.

Natasha looked over at him a suppressed smile, silently laughing at his antics.

They were about five hours into the patrol and that was the fourth branch that had hit him.

Patrol 12, consisting of twenty people, was split into groups of five, each taking a quadrant of the border to patrol. The system of patrol that each quadrant used was two members keeping a stationary look out while the other three jogged the perimeter, each following different routes and all five changing roles periodically.

Clint and Natasha were jogging together for this stretch, Clint now grumbling, rubbing his bruised forehead and quickly ducking as another branch came into his path.

"The Amazon was easier to run through than this."

Natasha quirked an eyebrow at this.

"I seem to recall you falling on your face while we were running through the Amazon."

Clint scoffed.

"Okay, one - I tripped over that branch because there was a giant cobra hanging from a tree, as you well know, and two - because I fell I dodged that poison dart that would have hit me in the face and which I seem to recall hitting a certain redheaded Russian just ahead of me."

Natasha rolled her eyes, gracefully jumping over a tall above-ground tree root.

"Nothing I wasn't already immune to anyway; it barely caused a scratch."

Clint laughed.

"All in all, I think I ran the Amazon better than you did."

"In your dreams, Barton," she said, playfully shoving him, only causing him to laugh more.

She began to turn away, their congruent stretch of run ending, her path branching away from his.

"See you next round?" he smiled.

"Nope, I have stationary next."

"Lucky." He groaned, turning to go finish his circuit and then begin another.

She ran up to the designated tree and waited at the bottom while Cora, the Wakandan in the branches, climbed down.

"_Minden tiszta?" _Cora asked, jumping from a low branch and landing near Natasha.

"_Minden tiszta." _ Natasha assented, climbing up into the tree as Cora sprinted off to begin the round.

Clint and Natasha had originally run into a language barrier dilemma, none of the other members of their quadrant patrol speaking English. But after some initial confusion and less than helpful gesturing, they discovered that Cora happened to speak Hungarian, a language both Natasha and Clint spoke. She became their translator at that point, all their communications having to go through her.

Natasha settled into a high branch in the tree and gazed out at the view it offered. The sun was setting behind the city, outlining the skyline in warm oranges and yellows. The city streets were arranged in an orderly grid, the houses and buildings in neat rows. The foliage and tall trees began just outside the circular wall that enclosed the city.

She glanced around, counting the different figures she saw traversing through the woods, making sure that the proper number was accounted for, no more, no less.

A familiar purple and black clad figure stuck out among them and she smiled and shook her head as the figure collided with yet another tree, holding his head as the branch continued to sway behind him.

…

Bruce sighed, running his hands through his hair, his patience levels wearing thin after staring at this problem all day and coming up with painfully few answers.

He'd had little to work with from the start; the information the Wakandans had managed to gather had been helpful but excruciatingly incomplete. They had the symptoms of the poisoning:

Detriment of the lungs leading to wheezing and coughing and eventual collapse.

High fever eventually leading to brain damage.

Dehydration caused by perspiration

A discoloration of the irises, resulting in an unnatural hue of blue in the eye beginning at the intermediate to late stages of the poisoning.

They had determined that the city water supply, a nearby mountain spring, had been artificially poisoned with a strain of Galván radiation, (as he had suspected), infecting any who drank the water for the next thirty-six hours. At that point the poisoned water had run its course and the water had been safe to drink once more; the radiation having already begun to do its damage.

The final page detailed their findings on how the Galván radiation had reacted to become as lethal as it had. There was an incomplete equation of how the Galván radiation had reacted with the radiation produced by the deposit of vibranium that the city sat on top of. Both types were completely harmless on their own, but apparently very harmful to humans and animals when they reacted together.

It looked as though Dr. Chana had been trying to complete the equation when he collapsed; and Bruce had spent the following hours trying to do the same. Both of these radiations were exceptionally rare and their introduction to each other was almost completely unheard of.

It frustrated Bruce to no end that he had no idea how these two were combining together so lethally. And then even once he finally figured that out, he'd have no idea on how to counteract the damage done by it.

Normally, these were the types of problems that he loved working on; but not when thousands of lives hung in the balance and when it seemed like every frustration seemed to make him more and more angry. Angry as in ready to senselessly start smashing everything in sight and begin to speak monosyllabically. He felt like he was constantly reigning himself in and calming himself before he could continue. He couldn't explain why, but it felt like his temper was bursting out of control, especially when trying to focus on this problem.

Bruce took a deep breath in, trying to settle his mind once more, when he heard a knock at the door. He looked up to see T'Challa in the doorway looking slightly concerned.

"You are working alone, Dr. Banner?"

Bruce was at first confused by the question, of course he was working alone, but then he realized that T'Challa probably considered a stranger messing around in the countries' research lab and best hope of a cure to be a threatening situation.

"Don't worry, T'Challa, I haven't touched anything besides what was vital to the research."

"Where is Dr. Chana?"

"He fell ill to the poisoning earlier this morning. The infirmary would be my best guess."

"You have been working here all day?"

"...Yes."

"Dr. Banner, I did not expect you to take over the entire program on your own. I fully expected that at least two of our researchers would be here to assist you; I was unaware they had fallen ill. Please, take a break and come dine with the rest of your team."

Bruce paused, taken aback by the turn of conversation. He'd thought that getting thrown back into the cell was in his near future, not dinner. Part of him desperately wanted to set down the work and take this deserved meal break, a big part of him. Most of him, really. But a small part of him reminded the bigger part that while he was taking that break, thousands of people would be suffering and hundreds would be dying.

He shook his head.

"Thanks T'Challa, but I don't really need to. I'm going to keep working here, if that's alright."

T'Challa nodded.

"Thank you Dr. Banner, for what you are doing for Wakanda. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask. "

He turned to go, then looked back, an afterthought having occurred to him.

"I will send some food down here for you Dr. Banner, incase you decide you do want it later."

Bruce nodded.

"Thank you T'Challa."

T'Challa left the room and Bruce again reintegrated himself into his work; T'Challa's presence and the reminder that lives were at stake again reinforcing the importance of solving the problem in a timely manner.

Bruce stared down at his papers, the now increasingly familiar frustration and anxiety returning. He sighed. It was going to be a long night.

**To miss quote one of my favourite authors: I wrote this chapter like you fall asleep, slowly and then all at once. It seems like it was really had to actually **_**write**_** this chapter, (the beginning is a little dry, not gonna lie) but once I finally had some inspiration, it all came pouring out. **

**Hope it's still enjoyable! Thanks to everyone who reviews, favorites, reads, or even just glance at the story. You're what keeps me up late at night writing this stuff.**


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